Almez the Great
by Kuja3
Summary: A story I wrote for my English class. Oneshot, all made up characters, story of excess pride... not to mention insanity. There is a lot of violence, blood, and an instance... or two... of dismemberment.


Well, this is a fun little assignment I recently had in English. I decided to actually put some effort into it, and I think it turned out pretty well. The look on my teacher and peers faces as I read it was priceless…

Disclaimer-type-thingy-ma-jigg: Yeah… uh… I obviously DO NOT own the Chronicles of Narnia, or any other of C.S. Lewis' work. So if you don't like me using his stuff… I suggest you get the hell over it. I don't have any money for you to take away from me anyway.

WARNING: This story is short, and only one chapter, but within this single chapter are things not meant for the squeamish. If images of death, dismemberment, and blood disturb you, do not read this. Also, the bold, italicized, and underlined words were vocab words we had to have in there, and the only reason I left them like that was so if their usage seemed strange, you can see that the word was only there because it had to be, not because I decided to use some funky word in the place of a normal, better-fitting one. If you don't like it: go die. NOW.

Well, enjoy.

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It was early morning on the day of the attack. Almez and his Calormene army lay only a few meters from the open field outside Cair Paravel, the Narnian king's castle. Soon, the barbarian's fortress, along with the whole of the land of Narnia, would all be Almez's.

It was still dark out, and Almez, the **_opulent_** and war-loving son of a Tarkaan, sat near a large bonfire on the edge of his army's camp. He gave a smirk as he **_mused_** over how well his plan had gone so far. He had made great time in his crossing of the desert north of Tashbaan, and he had only lost one man to the intense heat. His smile widened as he then thought of Archenland's brutal defeat at his hands. He still remembered the wonderful feeling it had been to finally cleave the King of Archenland's head from his shoulders. The idiot had stayed defiant to the end, never once showing any fear, even as he was brought to his knees, and Almez's sword swung toward his neck. Ah, but it had been so good to see the king's eyes go blank in the cold stare that only the dead can give. And after that Almez had displayed the head for all the former king's subjects to see, and he had laughed at their horrified faces. He laughed, because he knew, and they knew, that Archenland had met its **_demise_**.

And now it was Narnia's turn. It was time for the pitiful fools that had so long eluded the Tisroc's grasp to finally fall. Not that Almez had any intention of just handing his new kingdom over to that fat, pompous idiot who called himself the Tisroc. All other Calormen people might **_extol_** the Tisroc, and wish he would live forever, but Almez hoped that the blowhard would one day choke on the food he always shoved down his throat.

Almez chuckled at the image of a choking and dying Tisroc, and what people would think of the **_duplicity_** within his mind. Then he turned his thoughts once again to the land he would soon own. These miserable barbarians didn't stand a chance against the might of Almez's army. And besides, his people had their god Tash behind them, and the Narnians had only a stupid lion. Not that Almez actually believed in Tash, but he knew that his army did, and that just saying the simple phrase 'In the name of Tash' turned the soldiers into nearly unstoppable beasts in battle. Anything that could do that, real or not, was better than an overgrown cat.

Almez looked to the horizon, a cocky smile still on his face, as the sun began to rise. "Finally," he said to himself, getting to his feet. "Narnia as we know it ends today."

Almez turned round to face his army, which was formed in front of him, awaiting his command. "Men of Calormen," a shout came from the army, "Today, we take Narnia!" Shouts and cheers rose into the air, and Almez turned toward his prey once again. "Men, forward, march!"

Instantly the troops behind him moved forward, with him at their lead. Someone in the back sounded the Calormene war horn, and then the drummer began to play. Almost at that same moment a horn came from the barbarian's castle, and the drawbridge of the castle began to lower. Almez and his men marched on, and after a few seconds Almez yelled to the sky "In the name of Tash!" A cheer came from behind him, and the stomp of the soldier's feet seemed to become harder.

Now the drawbridge was down, and the Narnian army was coming out. The barbarians were made up of hardly any men. Most of their 'army' was comprised of useless and **_unkempt_** small animals, such as mice, rabbits, and squirrels. The animals that really could do some damage, such as leopards, bears, and wolves, were in short supply. They had several dwarf archers, from what Almez could see, and a centaur or two. Almez laughed once more. Why, they were even more pitiful than he had first thought.

And now he saw his **_adversary_**, their king, walking through the middle of the mismatch army, to take a place at the front. The king had a determined look on his face, just like the Archenland king had. Almez could hardly wait to bring the insolent fool to his knees. He could almost feel the familiar feeling of a sword slicing through flesh and bone, and the wondrous sound it made.

"The king is mine, kill all the rest!" said Almez to his army, who yelled in acknowledgement.

And then the battle began. The animals in front of Almez charged forward, and the Calormenes behind lowered their spears. Almez stepped backward, so the animals would charge into the spears, and not him. Several of the more stupid animals charged to their death, but the smaller simply went underneath, and the leopards and wolves jumped overhead, ripping out the throats of several Calormene warriors. The two centaurs did none of these things, the just simply cut the spears to pieces with their swords, and then went in for the kill. And now the stupid annoying vermin at the men's feet was harassing their feet. One of the mice attempted it on Almez, put he ran the pitiful excuse for a warrior through, and then wiped it off on the grass. The dwarves, who all knew to be incredible bowmen, had taken out several of Almez's men as well, but now Almez had **_deployed_** his archers, and the dwarfs' numbers were diminishing.

Almez had found the king again. Almez had killed none but the mouse up to this point; he did not want to expend his energy on anyone except for the idiotic king. Now Almez really began to feel **_exhilarated_**, as the thrill of battle roared inside him. He assumed a proper fighting position, with his sword pointing towards the king. The king saw this, and then the two locked eyes. Both could tell the other was **_adroit_** in the use of a sword, and both knew that one had to die before this was over; there was no other way.

"Are you ready to die, king?" said Almez, saying the last word in a mocking tone.

"Not if it means losing my kingdom to you." replied the king.

The two were know circling each other, eyes unblinking. The battle raged on around them, but they were oblivious; they saw nothing but each other.

And then Almez leaped, and so did the king. Their swords clashed together, letting out a discordant note. The two warrior's faces were so close that they could feel each other's breath, and their eyes shot nothing but pure hatred towards one another. Their swords pulled apart, and then smashed together once more. The process repeated again, and then again, and then several times more, and their eyes never blinked. Then the swords pulled apart again, but this time the king swung his sword in a different direction than Almez had anticipated. Sslock! Almez didn't even know what had happened, until he felt the stabbing pain of a sword stuck in his side. His eyes widened, and a grunt of pain escaped his lips. He turned his head to look at the wound, and then he realized that his left arm was gone. It had been cut clean off.

The king took away his sword, and ceased fighting. He seemed to expect Almez to surrender, or start crying out in pain or rage. The king did not seem to expect what it was Almez actually did. While Almez did cry out in a rage, he also immediately retaliated, and ran his sword through the king's side. The king grunted, and dropped his sword, not expecting the sudden attack. He fell forward to his knees, which drove the sword in deeper, almost to the hilt.

And now Almez was hardly still sane. Blood lust was taking over his mind. His eyes were unnaturally wide, and had an insane look about them, which his disheveled hair, large grin, and bloody stump of a left arm did not help in changing. He let out a cry of joy, not even seeming to notice the fact that blood was still pouring from what was left of his arm, onto the ground.

Almez pulled the sword out of the wounded king, looked at it, laughed again, and then kicked the king in the face, which knocked the poor man onto his back. Almez slammed his foot down on the king's chest, and then began to speak, not just to the king, but to all around him. The battle seemed to have either ended, or stopped upon seeing the bloody Almez standing over an equally bloody Narnian king.

"Pitiful fool, did you really think you could win? Did you actually believe that Narnia could escape the Calormene fist forever? Your time of peace is at an end, now all of Narnia is mine!" Almez plunged his sword into the king's left shoulder, and then laughed again. All of his sanity was lost now. "What does your lion god have to say now? Nothing! He could never stand up to the might of the god Tash! And do you know what? Tash isn't anything either! I did this! I did this all on my own!" He pulled his sword back out of the king's shoulder, and waved it around, as he yelled to the clouds. "I didn't need some four-armed, chicken-faced man to help me! Tash and all other gods are a myth! There is nothing but man, and only he can control his own destiny!" At this his eyes narrowed, and he stared the king on Narnia straight in the eyes. "And I am about to choose yours. Your destiny is to die by my hands, and now, in the name of Tash - no! In my own name, in the name of Almez the Great, I shall kill you."

Almez swung his sword down for the final blow. But someone caught his arm in midair, and then the person said, "So, I'm a myth, am I?"

Instantly sanity seemed to refill Almez's eyes, and the widened things no longer seemed insane, but terrified. Almez very, very slowly lifted his gaze to look at his arm, his mind frozen with fear. Holding onto his arm was a bony, withered, and clawed hand. Almez's heart stopped. He let out a scream, dropped his sword, tripped over his own feet in an effort to back away, and fell down onto his back, the same way the king of Narnia was laying. A massive foot, not unlike the hand that had just grasped Almez's arm slammed down beside Almez's head, and an evil face enveloped Almez's vision to stare down at him. It was a feathered head, with a sharp beak coming and curving out of it. Blood red and dark eyes peered down at Almez's horrified face. One of four arms then slowly reached for Almez, whose eyes now seemed like they would bulge out of his head. He screamed an ear-piercing scream, which made the horrible creature take a small step back and straighten itself some. Then it stooped down and grabbed Almez by the scruff of the neck, no longer moving slowly.

"Well, Almez," the thing, which Almez knew, even in his terror, to be Tash now sounded angry. Its eyes narrowed to evil red slits. "This myth is about to send you to hell." With that, it held Almez as high as it could, with the now pitiful man still screaming, and now thrashing about. Then it threw the sobbing mess to the ground with all its might, but before Almez hit the ground both he and Tash disappeared from the face of the earth.

Everyone around just stood there in shock for several moments. The king, even though he was in pain, pushed himself to his feet. He looked around the battlefield, to see all eyes staring back.

"Men of Calormen," he said in a loud, booming voice, "Leave now. And do not ever come back."

Instantly, almost all the men turned tail and ran **_cravenly_** away. The few that tried to continue fighting were quickly stuck down. The King of Narnia wiped his bloodstained sword off on the grass, and then returned it to its sheath. He then turned back towards his castle, and calmly walked back to his home.


End file.
